


Strings

by vampgirltish



Category: VIXX
Genre: M/M, Soulmates, Strings of Fate, and other strings for different relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 15:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11946774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampgirltish/pseuds/vampgirltish
Summary: Red strings of fate tie people together for love. But what happens when yours is blue?





	Strings

Typically, the red string of fate held people together invisibly, without any sight from anyone. People could not see these threads, nor could they be deciphered by anyone. People also did not believe there was anything other than a red string of fate. Red meant love, passion, unity--it meant soulmates. But there were other colors of strings, linking different kinds of relationships. People could see the threads, but since everything was so tangled and covered, it was hard to distinguish whose was whose. The pile of strings in the center of the city writhed like snakes, multicolored threads pulsing in the mass. The threads didn’t get in the way, people could step through or around them and the threads would just bend and flex back. They would tangle, knot, twist, but never break. 

Wonshik looked down at his own strings. He had yellow strings attached to the palms of his hands, linking him to his friends, Hongbin and Hakyeon. He had a string furling from his heart, typically where the red string of fate would go, and his was a dark, dark blue, interwoven with flecks of purple. What could this mean for him? Blue strings and purple strings never connected from the heart... He didn’t know. He wouldn’t know until he met who was on the other end of his string. He had blue strings of community to his throat for his family, he had an orange string of nurturing that also connected to his younger sister. He had some green string that tangled around his feet and ankles that linked to old teachers and friends he had when he was younger, but haven’t lingered. 

But this blue string was by far the most curious thing he’d found. He sat down in front of his computer, typing slowly into the search bar, hesitant of the results that might come up.

_ ‘Blue string of fate.’ _

The results that all came up were indicative of the blue string of communication that came from throats. These were intended for the people who you can communicate with all your life. Some people who aren’t blood family can be connected by a blue string but it had never been heard of it coming from the heart, nor someone finding love from the blue string of community from the throat.

There were no results ever connected to a soulmate from blue strings.

Wonshik felt hopeless. He just hoped he could find whoever was on the other end of his string.

~*~*~

Wonshik spent many years looking-but-not-looking for the individual on the other end of his string. He didn’t go out of his way but he’d hoped he’d see this person soon. His family had commented that he was broken for having a string that was the wrong color in the wrong place. It only made him feel more ashamed. Wonshik wanted to run away, wanted to get away from everyone’s harsh comments and hatred. He just wanted to feel accepted even if his strings were all wrong. He went back to the alley he liked to sit in, slapped with poems that he’d enjoyed and read a lot in his time. They comforted him, since he enjoyed writing poems of his own...

_ On blue summer evenings,  _

_ I shall go down the paths _

_ Getting pricked by the corn _

_ Crushing the short grass: _

_ In a dream, I shall feel its coolness on my feet. _

_ I shall let the wind bathe my bare head. _

 

_ I shall not speak, I shall not think about nothing: _

_ But endless love will mount in my soul; _

_ And I shall travel far, very far, like a gypsy, _

_ Through the countryside, - happy as if I were with a woman. _

 

_ \- Arthur Rimbaud _

He reread this poem so many times. Blue summer evenings... travelling far.... Would he find his string mate if he travelled far? He wasn’t sure. It soothed him to think of blueness and still being connected to someone. He wore red so often to distract from his blue string, and to think of wearing blue again, finding someone on the other end of this blue curse he’d been given... comforted him.

He scribbles in his notebook absently as he sits.

_ This is something that would appear on a screen _

_ I’m feeling like a Gosling _

_ I’m sure of this feeling _

_ Love you, love you, love you, love you _

_ Really love you. _

_ You can’t be replaced _

_ You’ve already come into my head. _

_ I’m more than halfway sure, _

_ You’re the answer. _

He had his mind made up now. He rips down the Rimbaud piece, tucking it into the same page of his notebook, and he stands. He was going to travel. He didn’t know how far, but he was going to travel. He travelled all over Korea, finally settling into a smaller city. It was full of plants and kind people, but his string didn’t feel any shorter. It only pulled his other strings tighter. He wanted to feel normal. He went into a record store after staying in the town for nearly two weeks, and he found himself comfortable there. Flipping all the dusty records back and forth, reading the labels for all of the different artists, he felt comforted. He pulls out one that is unlabeled, in a sleeve that was simply blue on one side and red on the other. The worker comes over and sees him holding this record.

“Yeah, some guy came in and dropped it off, saying that when the right person found it they’d know. I wasn’t sure what it meant but it looked like a sick record so I kept it out on the floor. It’s blue with a red center. You can have it if you want. He asked me not to put a price on it but said to tell anyone who takes it to return it if it’s not theirs. Whatever that means.”

Wonshik is intrigued. He takes the record and promises he will bring it back if it’s not his to keep. He sits down in his room, setting the record onto his record player and placing the needle carefully at the beginning. He hears a voice, first.

_ I just felt the moment I saw it, I did it all. _

_ I want to see you filled with me. _

The record skips and the voice is back again.

_ Just a feeling, I knew the first time I saw it _

_ I’m all over you, just a feeling. _

_ I want to pull you into my world. _

_ Oh in love _

_ Falling in love _

_ In love _

_ I fall in love. _

The record skips again, scratchy and broken for a moment until a voice comes back, speaking this time.

“I don’t know who will hear this and know that it is me... I don’t know if they’ll ever find this. I can see the knot in our thread.”

A knot? Someone’s thread had a knot... that represented hardship or conflict, either with both or individual.

“The knot has blue and red string. The red string has purple in it. So does the blue one.”

_ Blue. Blue and red and purple. That was his. His soulmate... _

“If you can hear this, and you know what this means, please visit me at the address listed on the inside flap of the record sleeve. If this does not make sense to you, please return this record. Thank you.”

The record ends as quickly as it started. The rest of it was filled with instrumental music. He knew this was for him, He knew this was the person he was supposed to meet. He looks, and finds the address. He hurries to find it and locate it in his phone, taking the record off the table and sliding it back in the sleeve. Then, trying hard as he could not to run, he hurries to the address.

Wonshik finds himself in front of a blue door. The door’s number was 828. He was nervous as he knocked. There was silence for a long time, but the door swung open. The man behind the door was wearing a blue, tattered sweater, and a warm smile. “Yes?”

He had two yellow strings, five blue strings, a few orange strings, a couple green ones... And one red one, from his heart. The two of them looked at the knot that hung close to Wonshik’s end of the string, but nevertheless they were linked, the blue and red fading into a blurred purple in the middle.

Blue, red and purple. Community, love, and the mind. He’d met three soulmates in one man.

“So you’re the one with the blue string,” is all his soulmate supplies.

Wonshik smiles nervously. “Y-Yeah.”

“I’m Taekwoon.”

“Wonshik.”

“I guess we’re soulmates,” Taekwoon says. “Come inside, we’ve got catching up to do.”

“Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> nobody asked for this but here it is. im sorry it's garbage, much like everything else i do.
> 
> the poem in here is the one in the video behind wonshik in the alley. yes i checked. the lyrics in this are from whisper and feeling respectively.
> 
> it's based on vixx lr's song whisper, mostly by the music video but loosely by the song. stream #whisper here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aOnHdPZqSuI


End file.
